Workers of the World, Unite!

I was bored. (So many of my stories start like this, don't they?). Bored with Istanbul. Bored with my school. Bored with my students. And bored with the other teachers, especially. By the way, I had always thought that TEFL would draw the most interesting, liberal, and openminded people. Well, it doesn't. It draws the most socially awkward, alcoholic, schizophrenic people. Seriously, everyone leaves home for a reason. Mine were (you may argue this point) political and cultural. However, most people's are psychological. Can't get a girlfriend? Move to Istanbul. Can't afford to go out drinking in your home country? Move to Istanbul. Can't develop friendships in your home country because everyone speaks your language and knows you're a dumbass? Move to Istanbul...

Every night, I returned home at 10:30 after teaching all day, sat in front of the computer for a couple of hours, then laid down in bed, stared at the celing and thought, "Well, that's one more day that's been ticked off of the painfully small abacus of my life. Someday relatively soon, I'll be dead, and while that will be no great tragedy to the world, I can't help but be a little bothered by it. [sniff, sniff]" Kinda sounds like my life in Dayton, doesn't it?

Well, yeah. I have learned this year that your problems are your problems. You can forget about them by running around the world, doing interesting things and meeting interesting people, but when the money runs out, when you're forced back into real life - that's where you're at. You're yourself... And what I've learned about myself is that I'm addicted to opportunities. That's what it's all about. That's why I have trouble spending money. That's why I have trouble staying with girls. That's why I always dream about traveling. Decisions restrict. Comfort restricts. Stability restricts. And for me, at least at this point in my life, I really, really don't want to feel restricted.

So, to that end, I broke up with Emily. "But you're the asshole with the problem!" several of you just shouted. Yeah, well, life ain't fair. My life was a sinking ship, and I'm not the kind of guy who lets the women and children off first. Uh-uh. I'm more likely to throw a couple donkey punches, jump in the lifeboat, and laugh all the way to the nearest utopian desert island. Think I'm a schmuck?

Well, so did everyone here. For the first few weeks, at least, I was the resident asshole at English Time. The usually-tittering level 1 girls began to scowl at me when I walked by. I got the cold shoulder from the other teachers. In fact, the only people who would really talk to me were Altug (a very un-Turkish Turkish man) and Duygu (the prototypical Turkish girl, who easily makes all other Turkish girls look like twisted accidents). However, Emily's sullenness lasted for only a short week. She very quickly passed the rejection, overcame the betrayal, and used those wits of hers we all love to say, "You know what, Aaron? This was a damn good idea. Our relationship sucked, and it was getting in the way of something much more important - our friendship." And to that sentiment, we've been raising our glasses of Efes ever since. At this point, Emily's and my lives were instantly transformed for the awesome.

Suddenly, a world of possibilites that had always existed, but had been hidden by our constitutional lethargy, was opened before us, and we spared only a few moments to stamp our feet on the ground before we raced off into the bright, Istanbul sunshine. Emily made a lot of friends. She started going dancing a lot. She became far more outgoing, more social, and more entertaining, somehow without losing that endearing quality that separates her from the droves of other chattering balls of insecurity. She very quickly recaptured that spark of wonderment that makes her friends (in which number I am honored to count myself) feel like they're the most important people in the world. She is, again, the author of her own destiny, and to those of you who are lucky enough to be written amongst her pages, I say "Congratulations!"

As for me, my life got interesting too. A whirlwind romance quickly developed between me and that incomparable beauty, Duygu. I don't know how it happened, but as we were standing on the top of the island, Buyukada, staring across the Sea of Marmara at The City, her face began to look more and more like the sun, and mine, the sea. And at sunset, when the two met, it was as if the real world no longer existed. The darkness that spread across Kadikoy served only to hide life's ugly reality from our suddenly sensitive eyes.

But her boyfriend didn't like that...

See, this is Turkey, right? Well, this girl was practically engaged to a guy who had been going to University in the south of Turkey for the last 4 years. I very quickly found out that: 1) He was just finishing medical school. 2) He was rich. 3) He was moving to Istanbul in 3 weeks to claim her, marry her, and whisk her off into a world of garden parties and sun dresses. So, I laid on the charm, O my faithful audience. I pulled out all the stops. I played all of my cards (and in the right order, too!). We spent the most incredible 3 weeks together. There were no garden parties, but there were numerous late night walks, fancy dinners, glasses of red wine, and even a dance under a streetlight! Yes, my friends, I was Richard Gere and she was Julia Roberts, only hot. I would have won an Oscar for my role, believe me... Except that the Turks don't know how to appreciate a good love story, unless it has a tragic ending. Every movie, song, and novel that gets produced in this country ends in infidelity, cancer, or untimely death.

I don't know how this one's going to end, except that it doubt it will be good... The boyfriend is here, and last I heard, she had left him. [applause] However, I won't see her for about a week, as her and Dr. Caglar have some bonding or something to do before he puts his tail between his legs and returns to Mersin, where he can frequent his garden parties, wifeless.

Sounds good, doesn't it? Sounds like I won? Yeah, well, as I see it, there are 2 possible endings to this story. 1) Caglar leaves, and Duygu decides that she will have some fun with her newly acquired freedom, vomiting up 4 1/2 years of repressed sexuality on an unsuspecting Istanbul (and making my life hell in the process). or, perhaps worse: 2) Duygu decides that she truly loves me, sends Caglar packing, and figures that since she left her rich doctor fiancee for me, I had better well marry her. This ends in a midnight border run for Bulgaria, or Turkish babies, neither of which is particularly appealing to me... This, my friends, is Turkey...

In other news, my contract is finishing in two months. I will have put away a bit in the bank by that time, which I will use to fund a 2 month long sojourn into the great Northeast (I think). Last November, the Ukrainian government decided to scrap the visa rules for Americans, so I can easily jump on a frieghter here in Istanbul and end up in Odessa the next morning. From there, it's only a short train ride up to Moscow and St. Petersburg, from which I intend to continue exploring the region by hitting up Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania, finally settling back in Prague for a month, licking my wounds (and hopefully getting some fresh ones).

After Prague, who knows? The money to be made here in Istanbul is practically endless. I'm going through a round of interviews at universities right now, but unfortunately, they all require me to have a valid work visa (which means returning to the US to pick it up). Eeeek. Not really an option. So, I'm thinking about coming back here, doing some part-time work, and picking up some private students. In any event, that will result in my having a kick-ass flat next year (sharing with Thomas, my old roomate from Prague, and a cracking guy!), so if I end up here again, and you visit, you won't freeze on the floor of an unfurnished office building (sorry Ron!)

If after reading this, you still think I'm an asshole, I won't argue. But I'm a happy asshole. And if I traded my comfort for your approval, I'd be a terrible human being (but a good American). Good night, my slightly smarting patriots! My name is Aaron, king of kings! Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair! Happy May 1st. Hope the immigrants are kicking ass over there!